


take a seat, honey

by hibiscus_tea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Face-Sitting, M/M, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Rimming, Service Top Shiro, University Students, messy sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 04:50:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibiscus_tea/pseuds/hibiscus_tea
Summary: Keith has been busy with a paper all week. Shiro shows Keith how much he missed him.Keith’s hips roll against him, his forehead pressed to Shiro’s shoulder.“You know, Shiro,” he says, voice dipping lower just from this, just from slow kisses and Shiro’s hands on him. “I worked really hard on that essay.”(It's just messy dorm sex).





	take a seat, honey

Keith is distracting. 

 

It’s not even anything specific, or purposeful. He sits quietly at his desk. His face rests on his hand, his expression intent on his work, on the laptop in front of him. 

 

Still, the line of his back calls Shiro’s attention. The nape of his neck, the steady pattern of his breaths. Shrio’s mind is drawn away from theories of physics, and towards the warmth of Keith’s skin, the taste of it under his tongue. The way he sounds when he’s being kissed.

 

Shiro sighs, and closes his textbook.

 

“Baby,” he prompts. He’s stretched out on Keith’s bed, surrounded by papers, and he organises them as he waits for Keith to answer. It takes a second, sometimes, for him to draw away from intense concentration. While he waits, Shiro sets his stack of papers on the floor, and props his cheek in his hand. “Baby,” he says again.

 

“What?” says Keith, finally. He doesn’t look away from the screen, but he’s listening. His hair is gathered in a ponytail, strands falling soft around his face. He’s barely a foot away, but Shiro misses the way he smells just behind his ear, the scent of his hair, the way he shakes when a kiss lands just-

 

“Are you almost done?” says Shiro. He reaches for Keith’s hand, draws it slowly away from the laptop while Keith’s eyes remain on the screen, his brow furrowed in concentration. Shiro presses a kiss to the palm, watches a small, distracted smile appear on Keith’s face. Fingers flex, catch just under his jaw in acknowledgment. 

 

“I’m proofreading,” says Keith, scrolling slowly with his other hand, now. “Five minutes. I gotta send it off before four-thirty.”

 

Shiro sighs, but passes the time pressing kisses to Keith’s fingertips, his knuckles. He uncaps a pen with his teeth and draws on the skin. Keith’s fingers twitch with every line. 

 

Finally, Shiro lets his hand go, and Keith absentmindedly scans the words there. He smiles, huffs a laugh. 

 

“I love you, too,” he says, tucking his grin with a duck of his head. A few seconds later, there’s the sound of an email sending, and the tension drains out of him. He links his fingers together and stretches, hands high above his head. A long sigh. 

 

Then, he gets up from his chair and tackles Shiro to the bed. 

 

The air is knocked out of his chest, but he wraps his arms around Keith’s body and pulls him closer, gathers him up and breathes him in. 

 

“Hey,” he whispers, as Keith cups his cheeks, kisses him.

 

“Hey,” Keith echoes. He reaches back for Shiro’s hand, and pushes it down to rest on his ass. “I’m horny.”

 

Shiro snorts with laughter, settles with a squeeze, and lands a kiss on Keith’s cheek. “You’re so classy, baby,” he teases, “love it when you make me work for it-”

 

He’s cut off with a kiss. Sweet, for the intent behind it, smile all caught up in it. Keith eases it deeper, licks into his mouth like a promise. Shiro groans. 

 

“Shut up,” Keith retorts, finally. “Stupid Iverson and his stupid paper had me working all week.” He buries his face in Shiro’s neck. “I miss your dick,” he admits. 

 

Shrio laughs again. Yelps when Keith sinks teeth into his throat.

 

“I’ve missed you,” he counters. He uses his spare hand to catch Keith’s chin, tilt his face up for a kiss. “Wanna cook for you tonight,” he murmurs, “that soup you like.”

 

Keith lets out a quiet moan, and Shiro laughs again. “I love that soup,” Keith says, with feeling, “I want an IV drip of that soup.”

 

Shiro wrinkles his nose, steals another kiss. “That’s… disgusting,” he says, honestly.

 

Keith hums, unphased. He kisses the corner of Shiro’s mouth, his cheek. His mouth opens hot against Shiro’s throat. 

 

Shiro keeps his hand on Keith's ass, but lets his other hand wander, sliding warm up the small of Keith’s back, rucking his shirt up. Keith arches against him at the feeling.

 

Shirts are shed easily. Keith’s mouth is hot on his skin, teeth scrape across his chest, pulling a groan from his throat. 

 

“Keith,” he says, cupping his cheek, thumbing at the soft, sleepy skin under his eyes. He kisses that parted mouth, grabs his strong thighs to pull him closer. He can feel the heat of Keith’s erection, half-hard against his hip. 

 

Keith’s hips roll against him, his forehead presses into Shiro’s shoulder. 

 

“You know, Shiro,” he says, voice dipping lower just from this, just from slow kisses and Shiro’s hands on him. “I worked really hard on that essay.”

 

This is going somewhere. Keith pulls back enough to focus on him with dark eyes. 

 

“I know you did,” says Shiro.

 

That kiss-pink mouth smiles too sly as Keith sits up. “You think I deserve a reward?”

 

Shiro’s hands land on his waist. He thumbs at the bare skin of Keith’s hip, licks his lips to hide the curve of a smile. “Anything,” he promises. Can’t help but raise an eyebrow in a quiet challenge.

 

Keith says nothing for a moment, just sits bare-chested and beautiful in Shiro’s lap, and lets his eyes dip down to Shiro’s mouth. He reaches out and thumbs at Shiro’s bottom lip, gaze heavy. 

 

“Suck me?” he offers, eyes flicking up to meet Shiro’s.

 

“Yeah,” says Shiro, entire body hot with sudden anticipation. “Yeah, Keith.”

 

He gets a grip around Keith’s thighs, and rolls them over, landing Keith on his back. There’s a surprised grunt from Keith, and Shiro hides his smile against his bare chest. 

 

“Missed your dick,” Shiro echoes, from minutes before. It gets a gasping laugh from Keith as Shiro drags kisses across his hipbones - sensitive under his tongue. 

 

“Missed your tongue,” amends Keith, stomach dipping as he gasps. Shiro sinks his teeth in, in response, leaves a mark on Keith’s skin to hear the noise he makes. “God,” Keith groans, “come  _ on _ .”

 

Shiro laughs. It’s short work to yank down Keith’s tight jeans. The underwear comes right down with them, and Shiro sheds his own in between kissing the pink pressure marks on Keith’s skin, around his hips. 

 

“I love sucking you off,” Shiro admits, settling between Keith’s thighs. It’s certainly a nice view. 

 

“I know,” Keith laughs. “You make that pretty clear.”

 

Shiro ignores the teasing, and instead slides a hot tongue along the crease of Keith’s thigh. It’s so good, the way his whole body jolts with it, back curving on a gasp. Shiro’s cock twitches in the bedsheets, trapped against his taught stomach. 

 

He wraps a hand around Keith’s dick to anchor himself, presses an open-mouthed kiss to the base, tongue catching on dark curls. There’s a pretty sigh as Keith shifts in the bedsheets, gets himself comfortable. Fingers comb into Shiro’s fringe, holding it back from his face. He looks up to find Keith’s eyes on him, mouth parted, cheeks pink. 

 

Shiro doesn’t mind showing off. He never minds showing off, for Keith. 

 

“Did so well on that essay, baby.” He teases praise, just to see the wry tilt of Keith’s smile. “So proud of you.”

 

Keith’s thighs part further, his stomach dipping as Shiro drags a tongue, lazy with intent, up the length of his cock. A messy kiss to the head, without dropping eye contact. He can feel the blush on his cheeks from the action, the way his eyes dip to watch Keith’s breath rise and fall in his chest. 

 

“God,” rasps Keith, “Shiro.”

 

It’s a plea to hurry, gruff as Keith can be, and Shiro answers with the slow slide of Keith’s cockhead over his messy tongue. He closes his mouth around it and sucks slow, tongue at the slit for the way Keith’s lashes flutter shut, the way he sighs.

 

Shiro lets his eyes close as he tongues at Keith’s cock. He takes a breath, and sinks down on it, lets it stretch his jaw, lets his tongue glide along the length of it. A breathless moan at the back of his throat when the head tests his gag reflex. He breathes through it, swallowing the urge to gag. A few weeks out of practice, but it’s easy to adjust as he opens his throat, buries his nose in the dark curls at Keith’s base, breathes him in. 

 

“Shiro,  _ fuck _ ,” groans Keith.

 

Shiro shivers, gathers Keith’s thighs in his arms. He wants to moan as he pulls back, but he’s short on breath, so he fucks Keith’s messy cock into his fist, bites kisses into those strong thighs. 

 

Keith lets his hips fuck up into Shiro’s hand, wet with spit. Even tied back, his hair is messy on the pillow, and his lip worried raw and swollen by his teeth. Shiro wants to bite at his nipples, but he’s preoccupied by the musk of precome on his tongue, the way Keith looks at him with expectation in his eyes. 

 

“Keith you look so fucking good right now,” he says, voice a little rough at the edges. “You gonna fuck my hand, baby?” His fist is still in the air, Keith’s hips working up into it, chasing the feeling. “Wish it was me?”

 

“Yeah,” rasps Keith, head tilting back in pleasure, blush dipping down his throat. “I wanna fuck you.”

 

Shiro breathes out the wave of heat, hips hitching down. It’s never anything fancy, Keith’s dirty talk, but it’s so goddamn honest. 

 

“Fuck,” breathes Shiro, and then leans forwards and chokes himself on Keith’s cock. 

 

Keith makes a sound like the breath is knocked out of him, and his thighs jump on either side of Shiro’s ears. Shiro holds his hips down, hand splayed on that taught stomach. It shivers under his fingers with pleasure. He can feel every drag of his tongue, every slow suck played out in the hitch of Keith’s breaths, the way his body moves under Shiro’s hands. 

 

A hand flies down to grip Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro looks up through watery eyes to see Keith biting messy at his knuckles, eyes dark. 

 

“God,” Shiro manages, as he pulls off Keith’s wet cock. His lips feel raw and used. “I love doing this for you. Drives me crazy.”

 

“Eat me out,” demands Keith, hands almost frantic in Shiro’s hair, combing it away from his forehead, fingers pressing him downwards. 

 

Shiro groans, gets his hands under Keith’s thighs to push them up, apart. Keith helps, holds his own legs as Shiro drags messy kisses over his thighs, licks hot and wet over his taint, his hole. 

 

“Yeah,” breathes Keith, hips hitching as Shiro gets him wet, thumbs at his rim. 

 

Shiro loves eating Keith out, loves tongueing messy at his hole, loves how indecisive Keith is in the face of all that pleasure. He writhes like he can’t decide, doesn’t know if it’s too much. 

 

“You gonna be loud for me, Keith?” prompts Shiro. He sucks slow at Keith’s little hole, rubs his tongue over it, tries to press inside. Keith whines, cock twitching between his thighs, drops of precome smearing over his stomach.

 

“Can’t stay quiet when you do this, you know that,” he says. He sounds almost accusing, and Shiro huffs a faint laugh against the back of his thigh. 

 

“Yeah, I know.” he says, teasing a finger at Keith’s hole, wet with spit. It’s messy and shiny, hot inside when Shiro presses in to the second knuckle. 

 

“Mm,” sighs Keith, reaching down for Shiro’s wrist.

 

“Another one?” guesses Shiro, smile curling at his mouth. 

 

“Yeah,” says Keith, “fucking commit to it.”

 

Shiro laughs, eases another finger in beside the first. Keith hums in approval, letting his legs go to settle over Shiro’s shoulders. He’s tight. Slick with spit, hot and needy from Shiro’s tongue. 

 

Shiro ruts down against the sheets, aching. 

 

“You wanna come like this?” he manages, tucking those two fingers up against Keith’s prostate, working a knuckle against his taint. Keith's body rises and falls against Shiro’s hands. The sound worked from his throat is rough, messy. A moan from a kiss-bitten mouth. 

 

“Give me another, and  _ yeah _ ,” says Keith. There’s a scramble above him, and then the bottle of lube bounces off Shiro’s nose. 

 

“Ow,” he laughs, uncapping it, dripping lube onto Keith’s stretched hole. It must be cold - Keith’s thighs twitch.

 

“Sorry,” Keith says, sounds caught halfway between a gasp and a laugh. He rides his hips down against two, three fingers. They ease in, thick enough to ache, wet with lube and spit, so much so that it drips out, onto the bed. Shiro presses a kiss to Keith’s thigh, watches him take it. 

 

“I’m gonna get you open for my tongue,” promises Shiro, “so tight I could barely fit it in, baby. I wanna get you messy and loose.” 

 

“Shit,” breathes Keith, fingers curling into Shiro’s hair, giving a tug that Shiro feels all the way to where his knees press into the bed. His cock drips messy in the sheets. “Fuck me open,” Keith pants. He tugs at Shiro’s hair again, whines low and hot in his throat. “I wanna sit on your tongue, fuck.”

 

Shiro groans, kisses slow and wet up Keith’s body, coaxed on his path by Keith’s tight grip on his hair. He sucks at those tight nipples, pulls them just at the edge of too hard. Enough to make Keith’s hips jolt, his hole flex around Shiro’s fingers. 

 

Keith is never one to shy away from a kiss. Shiro moans as Keith licks into his mouth, bites at his lip and pulls, kisses him deep and messy and rough. Hands slide over his shoulders, down his chest. Fingers wrap tight around his dick, a palm at the head. 

 

“Fuck, Keith,” groans Shiro, and lets him kiss the musk off his tongue. Heat runs down his spine as he ruts up into Keith’s hand, aching for it. Keith’s nose presses into his cheek. The bedsheets are a mess under them, and Shiro’s mouth feels raw, used. They could fuck now, if they wanted. 

 

But Shiro has promises to keep. 

 

“C’mon,” he murmurs. A line of spit connects their mouths for a moment as he pulls back. Keith’s lips are shiny and swollen, flush dipping down across his chest. They roll over together, Keith’s thighs tight around Shiro’s waist like they’re sparring. 

 

A smile as they kiss again, Keith’s fingers still tucked around the head of Shiro’s cock, knuckles brushing the sensitive skin below his navel. 

 

“Tell me if you like the new lube,” says Keith, and then shifts around, straddling Shiro's pecs. 

 

Shiro laughs, curling his arms around Keith’s thighs, yanking him close. “Flavoured?”

 

“Mhm.”

 

The line of Keith’s back is distracting, again. Bare this time, muscled and dotted with light freckles. Shiro leans up to press an indulgent kiss to the dip of his spine, drags down to the crease of his thigh. 

 

Keith sighs, and there’s the slight hitch of his hips like he’s got a hand around his cock, working tight and quick at the head, the way he likes it. 

 

It’s almost dizzying, the effect he has on Shiro. Caught up in the way he moves, the way he breathes. Shiro’s hands look big on the muscled length of his thighs. Thighs that tense and shake when Shiro pulls Keith in, parts his cheeks, touches his hot hole. The rim gives when Shiro pushes the tips of two fingers in, trying to swallow whatever Shiro will give it. 

 

“Shiro, babe,” pleads Keith, hair gathered above the bare nape of his neck, “I’m getting close, don’t mess around with me-”

 

“Alright,” Shiro soothes, gets his head comfortable in the pillows. “Take a seat, honey.”

 

Keith lets out an overwhelmed huff of air, letting Shiro guide him back until he can set his hole on Shiro’s tongue. “Yeah,” he sighs, toes curling where they’re tucked against Shiro’s sides. His breath shakes as Shiro teases inside, fucks him open with flicks of his tongue. 

 

He wriggles, moans. Reaches back to thread fingers into Shiro’s hair. 

 

“How’s my ass taste?” he teases, laugh coming out breathless. 

 

“God,” Shiro giggles, giddy with sex and the sound of Keith’s laugh, “you’re crazy.” He buries his grin in the flesh of Keith’s ass. “It tastes like, uh-” a finger tucks into Keith’s hole, and he tugs at the used rim, wiggles his tongue inside. “Strawberries,” he decides. 

 

Keith bursts out laughing, fights a gasp when Shiro fucks his tongue into him. “Shit, I’m gonna come,” he gasps, smile all caught up in his moan. 

 

Shiro increases his efforts, moans against Keith’s rim, fucks his own hips up into the air, aching with the need to be touched, the need to feel Keith come apart on his tongue. 

 

“ _ Shiro _ ,” Keith groans, riding his ass back onto a messy mouth. Shiro kneads at his thighs, buries his tongue in deep, groans at the way Keith shakes, the sound of his gasps. 

 

He’s never perfectly quiet when he comes - there’s always a shattered sound, a rough noise like he can barely hold it back. A breathless curse this time, body shaking as he falls forward, bracing himself on one arm in the sheets, the other working between his thighs. “Shit,  _ ah _ .” His knees slide in the sheets, and Shiro has to hold him down, keep him in place to run a messy tongue over his hole until he’s spent, until he gasps for it to stop. 

 

“Fuck,” manages Shiro. His fingers ache a little from gripping Keith so hard, but he reaches under Keith’s thigh for his own cock anyway, tugs at himself with a rough moan.  

 

“Wait,” Keith pants, “let me do that.”

 

He expects a hand, maybe a mouth, but Keith moves on shaky legs to settle between his thighs, and grasp Shiro’s dick. “Oh,” breathes Shiro, as Keith teases the head of his cock over a loose hole, and then sinks down, “oh, baby, you don’t have to do that.” A breath, an exhale over a groan. 

 

Keith looks so good, spread around Shiro’s dick. 

 

“Duh,” says Keith, making a rough little sound when he catches too dry around the shaft. “Lube?”

 

“By your knee,” he manages. He gnaws at his lip, thighs spreading as Keith drips lube onto his hand and reaches back to slick Shiro’s cock. 

 

His back arches, leaning forward to brace himself on the sheets. He looks back over his shoulder, cheeks pink, hair falling sweaty around his face, curling free from where it’s tied above the nape of his neck. He grins. 

 

“Good?”

 

“God, Keith. You know it is,” groans Shiro. He reaches out, rubs a hand over the small of Keith’s back, flexing his hips up. Keith gasps like he can’t help it, and moves back against Shiro’s thrust, rolling his hips. “You’re so good, baby,” praises Shiro, watching as Keith bounces on his cock. 

 

Keith huffs a laugh, pulling up until the thick head of Shiro’s dick teases his stretched rim, and then sinks back down again, taking it so well. He rides a cock like he’s showing off, and he is. Showing off purely for Shiro’s sake. 

 

“ _ Ah _ ,” Shiro pants, thumbing at the dimples in Keith’s lower back, palming at his ass to see where his cock splits him open. “Pull off, sweetheart,” he warns, voice rough, “gonna come.”

 

Shiro groans when he wraps a hand around his dick, fucks into it, slick with lube. 

 

“Yeah,” Keith breathes, shifts around, leans over, boxes him in. He wipes Shiro’s mouth, and kisses him, sucks on his tongue, rubs messy hands over Shiro’s thighs. “You gonna come for me?” And the dirty talk doesn’t come naturally, but he tries, and sounds so good doing it. “Come on, Shiro,  _ yeah _ .”

 

It’s enough, it’s more than enough, especially when Keith tugs too hard at his nipples. Shiro arches up against him, body tensing, shaking as he comes with Keith’s mouth on his throat, messy kisses under his jaw, nothing to stifle the way he moans. 

 

“Keith, baby,” he pants, hips still twitching up into his hand, whole body riding the wave of his orgasm. Keith’s hands slide over his body, curl around his spent dick. 

 

He lets Shiro writhe under his hands. A rough whimper is torn from Shiro’s throat as Keith’s hand works over him in a blur. Long past the end of his orgasm, it hurts, it  _ aches _ . Shiro doesn’t say stop, can barely open his mouth to gasp. 

 

Keith’s eyes on him are hot, hungry. Tears build in Shiro’s eyes as he whimpers, hips rolling up off the bed, chasing the feeling of too much, of a rougher kind of pleasure. 

 

“ _ Gnh _ , too much,” he manages, finally. Keith tugs at his balls, gives a final twist of his wrist to rip a cry from Shiro’s throat. His entire body jolts at the feeling, and then he collapses down onto the bed, panting. 

 

“God,” says Shiro, after a minute of quiet breaths, Keith collapsed next to him, “that was so messy.”

 

Lube is shining on his thighs, over his spent dick. Come streaks his stomach, his mouth tastes like Keith’s ass, and strawberry lube. 

 

Keith laughs, and tilts his head for a kiss. His eyes catch on something at Shiro’s cheek, and he taps a finger there. “Love you.”

 

Shiro tangles their fingers together. His body feels roughed up, knocked around just enough for the afterglow to float in his chest. “What is it?”

 

Keith lifts his palm to Shiro’s face, and Shiro can see the smudged lines of ink there. He laughs. “Must’ve rubbed off on your face when I kissed you,” says Keith. He tilts his head, and presses a chaste kiss to the words, almost shy. 

 

“Well I do,” says Shiro, nosing at Keith’s cheek. 

 

“I know.” Another kiss, high on Shiro’s cheekbone. 

 

He looks down the line of Keith’s body, presses his nose to the fading flush along his shoulder, rests his head on Keith’s chest. Their legs tangle together. Shiro plays absentmindedly with Keith’s fingers. 

 

“I can barely feel my dick,” admits Shiro, just to hear Keith snort with laughter. 

 

“I only do it ‘cause you like it,” counters Keith. 

 

Shiro hums in response, presses a kiss to the back of Keith’s hand. Lets his eyes close.

 

“Don’t fall asleep,” cautions Keith, “you said you’d make dinner.”

 

“No,” mumbles Shiro, tucked against Keith’s shoulder. 

 

“Shiro.” Keith nudges him. “ _ Shiro _ .”

 

Shiro puts his mouth on Keith’s pec, and blows a loud raspberry. Keith yelps in response, wiggling out from under him and landing with a thump on the floor

 

Weak with laughter, Shiro peaks over the side of the bed to see Keith sprawled on the carpet. “Screw you, Takashi,” he laughs. “Landed on my goddamn tailbone.”

 

“Sorry,” says Shiro, choking back laughter. He braces his palms on the floor and leans off the bed for a kiss, but Keith yanks him down. They land in a tangle of limbs, and Shiro presses wet kisses to Keith’s cheeks, his jaw, just to hear him yell. 

 

“You’re gross,” pants Keith, pushing him off, palm against his forehead. 

 

“Yeah,” says Shiro, “so are you, baby.”

 

Keith kisses the laughter out of his mouth, and drags him into the shower.

**Author's Note:**

> I might be a little rusty when it comes to writing smut, so me know what you think!!
> 
> And maybe come say hi on [tumblr](https://vers-shiro.tumblr.com/) :)


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